


Color

by Captain_Assbut_at_221B



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Colors, Cute, Dean is scared of his feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, M/M, Pie, Sam Ships It, Sam and Jack forgot the pie, Sam ships it so hard, Wings, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Assbut_at_221B/pseuds/Captain_Assbut_at_221B
Summary: If you ask Dean Winchester what his favorite color is, he will laugh. But if you push him hard enough, the answer is always the same. Dean Winchester's favorite color is blue. But if you pay attention, you notice that he never gets anything blue, or when the opportunity to paint comes up, its always red, not blue. But the answer is steadfastly the same. Dean Winchester's favorite color is blue.If you ask Castiel what his favorite color is, he will go on a long riff about the colors on nature. But if you push hard enough, he will eventually answer. Castiel's favorite color is green. He says its because of the grass, or the color of life. But if you pay attention, you notice that he never buys anything green. But the answer is steadfastly the same. Castiel's favorite color is green.As Dean and Castiel come closer together in this small fic, it becomes apparent. The colors are green and blue, like the sky reaching down to touch the grass. One descending to the other.





	Color

Dean had never really thought about it. He knew that he was handsome, or at least he knew that most ladies thought so. And he knew that he had (as truckers liked to call them): cock sucking lips, or as the more polite ones said: fan-fiction lips. He knew they were perfect for kissing, and he knew they were perfect for nibbling on the little bit of skin by a girl’s ear. But he had never thought about his eyes. He knew they saw fine, and they were green, but he didn’t care otherwise. All his life his attention had been directed to his lips first, then his shoulders, and then his ‘pert little ass’ as previous flings had called it. It was never his eyes that hooked the ladies. It was always his body, his manner, something, anything but his eyes. He never thought them above Sam’s even. Sam had the soft blue eyes, and the gentle, puppy dog look in them never failed. Dean’s eyes held memories of hell, war, death and loss. He thought of them as hard, as cold, as dangerous. He thought of them as broken, lonely, sad, and haunted. But he never thought of them as beautiful. Never.

If you asked Dean his favorite color, he would laugh. But if you pried a little bit, he would answer blue. If you asked why, he would shrug and say, “It’s the color of the sky.” And you would know there was another reason, but he would never give one. And if you paid attention, you would notice that he never chose blue things when he had the option. But the answer remained steadfastly the same.  
Dean’s favorite color was blue.

Castiel loved all colors. Whenever they got around a mind reader, he or she would note that all they got from Cass was colors. Even his thoughts were in color apparently. When the boys finally set up a room for him in the bunker, Cass painted it. At first, he painted it white. But it reminded him too much of heaven. So whenever he had a spare moment, he colored it. He took paint of all different colors, and he drew his life on that wall. He painted heaven, he painted the war between the archangels, and he painted his life on earth. And everyone that Cass had ever known and cared for was included. An enormous section was devoted to Sam, Dean, and Jack, and another, smaller section to Mary, Kelly, Ketch, Rowena, even Crowley made an appearance. He started by the door, and then he went in a circle around the entire room. And it was beautiful.

If you asked Castiel what his favorite color was he would think for a while. Then, he would answer with caution and patience, but the answer was always the same. Castiel’s favorite color was green. If you asked him why, he would say, “It is the color of creation and life.” But there would be a tinge of red in his cheeks that would give away that there was another reason. No matter how much you pried however, he would never say. If you watched him, there was very little green on his walls, and he never bought anything green. But the answer was always the same.  
Castiel’s favorite color was green. 

Dean thought about it all the time. It was always in the back of his mind. But something always held him back. Whether it was Sam, or Jack, or fear, or just plain stubbornness, he never knew. But he didn’t want to hold back. Not anymore. So he sent Sam out for pie. And he sent Jack with him. And for the first time in over ten months, Castiel and he were alone.  
Castiel thought about it all the time. He never slept really, but when he did, he even dreamt about it. But he didn’t want to cross lines that weren’t meant to be crossed. He didn’t want to push things that weren’t meant to be pushed. So he held back. But he didn’t want to hold back. Not anymore.  
Dean dug through the bunker for a half an hour, but he couldn’t find anything that was the right shade. He dug through the book cases, the archive, even the dungeon, but there was nothing that was the perfect shade of green. He had just ducked into the bathroom to find something when he caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. His eyes roamed his freckles and then his lips and then his body. But then he saw them. His eyes. His eyes were the perfect shade of green. 

Dean had asked him to wait in the library for him, so Castiel was waiting. He looked over his limited space in vain. Nothing was the right color. He went over to the sink to get a glass of water for no reason than to pass the time. And when he looked up, he saw his reflection. He saw Jimmy’s thick black hair first, his soft wrinkles, and his body. But then he saw them. His eyes. His eyes were the perfect shade of blue. 

Dean came into the library empty handed. Cass was standing awkwardly by the table. He looked at Dean very seriously. “Hello Dean.” Dean smiled. “Hey Cass.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer. “I wanted to tell you something.” Cass nodded. “I as well.” Dean sighed. “I wanted to get you something to help you understand, but nothing was just right. The closest I could come to was this.” Dean took a deep breath. “I give you my eyes. I want you to have them because not only are they the way I see you, they're your favorite color.” He sucked in another breath and waited. Cass smiled so wide he thought his face would split. He leaned forward a little and then suddenly, so suddenly he almost fell, Dean was kissing him with those beautiful, plush lips. The lights in the bunker flared and burst, and Castiel’s unseen, black wings flared out behind him, knocking over a lamp and a half finished cup of coffee. Dean jerked back, and Cass looked at him sheepishly. “I'm sorry Dean. It is an irrepressible reaction an angel has when they find their true mate. He looked at the broken glass and burst bulbs and blushed. “I can fix this.” Dean laughed and kissed him again. This time, he kissed him harder and pressed up against him. The few light bulbs that hadn’t shattered burst with a musical crash. Cass pulled away. “Dean, I too have a gift for you.” He smiled. “I would also like to give you my eyes. They are the way I look at you, and they are also the only thing in this bunker that is your favorite color.” Dean laughed. “You can keep your eyes. I like them better in your skull anyway.” Castiel smiled. Then he leaned forward and kissed Dean once again, and blue met green, like the sky reaching down to touch the grass. This time the lights that remained only flickered, and Castiel’s wings encircled Dean. Dean smiled and mumbled into Cass’s mouth. “True mate eh?”

Sam came back with cake, but that was overlooked when he also came back to Dean and Cass fucking on the library table. He used the cake to cover his eyes as he backed away over the broken glass. “Goddamnit guys! Not where I do research!” 

A half an hour later, a very happy Dean sat on the counter eating ice cream, with an equally happy angel next to him. Sam was gagging a little. Dean laughed. “It was a beautiful, natural act Sammy.” Sam sighed. “That was a side of you I never wanted to see again, Dean.” Dean chuckled and leaned over to kiss Cass. And Sam couldn’t help but smile.  
If you ask Dean Winchester what his favorite color is, he will interlace his fingers with the angel by side and smile. The answer is still blue, but you know it’s not because of the sky. And if you ask Castiel Winchester what his favorite color is he will smile at the handsome hunter by his side. The answer is still green, and you know that to Cass, green isn’t just the color of life. No matter what, their answers are steadfastly the same. 

Blue and green are the only colors that matter to them.

As if the sky reached down and touched the grass. 

And that was perfect.

And that was enough.

And that was everything.


End file.
